My ex showed up on my doorstep one day, after I’d kicked him out for good reason. He had that plastic, Sunday-school smile plastered on his face, the one he used whenever he wanted to seem like a hero. Without waiting for an invite, he shoved a plastic grocery bag into my hands. Inside: a dozen eggs and half a pound of bologna.
“Just thought you might need some groceries,” he said, like he was donating a kidney.
I took the bag because arguing with him was like wrestling a wet balloon. “Thanks,” I muttered, hoping he’d finally leave me alone and take his delusions with him.
Later that afternoon, I ran into a mutual friend at the store. He tossed me a cheerful wave and said, almost bragging on Alex’s behalf, “Heard he stocked your whole fridge today. Said you’ve been struggling without him.”
I nearly dropped the cereal box I was holding. Stocked my fridge? My fridge had the personality of a desert. One shelf with pity groceries. A lonely jar of mustard. And enough empty space to host a yoga retreat.
Fueled by anger, disbelief, and a need for petty justice, I opened my fridge that night and took the most brutally honest picture I’d ever taken. Eggs, bologna, a barren wasteland behind them. Then I posted it with the caption:
“When lies come sunny-side up with a side of bologna.”
I thought maybe a dozen friends would chuckle.
What happened next felt unreal.
The post went viral. Thousands of people shared their own “hero in his own head” ex stories. The comments section turned into a support group slash comedy club. By the end of the week, I had offers from podcasters, bloggers, and one surprisingly famous relationship coach wanting to talk about toxic narratives, self-mythologizing men, and the power of reclaiming your story.
For once, the internet chose violence—but the funny, cathartic kind.
As for Alex? He texted me in a rage:
“Why are you humiliating me online?”
I stared at the message for a moment, then typed back:
“You started with eggs and bologna. I just finished the recipe—with truth.”
And I didn’t hear from him again. Not even to return the reusable tote bags he stole during the breakup. Typical.
